Not Alone
by Nightingale63
Summary: A tribute to Finn, and to Cory Monteith, a lovely soul, gone too soon. Blaine, Kurt, Rachel, and New Directions and the families respond to Finn's death, and ultimately choose to honor him in song. Warning: strong feelings, occasional language. This story is sent out with love for all the Glee family.


**A/N: I don't own Glee. This is a tribute to Cory, and the wonderful character he embodied, Finn Hudson. My heart goes out to all his loved ones, and he will never be forgotten. In another way, this is a love letter from the Klaine fandom to Finn and Finnchel fans: all of our hearts are aching, and we are all Team Finn with you, and will forever mourn the loss of Cory Monteith, a sweet soul whose loss we can't make sense of.**

Blaine was busy working on his original song. They'd convinced Mr. Schue to at least let the Glee club members _try_ their hand at writing a song for Nationals. Marley had been excited by this news, of course, but he had been too. This song was special, he was sure of it, and he'd toiled on it alone so far. Kurt was in New York again, and Sam and Tina had done their best to keep him company.

This time was different, they kept reminding him. Yes, it had hurt like hell, that Kurt's initial reaction to his proposal that day had been _laughter_: it was anything but a joke to him, and he'd been crushed. When Kurt had recovered from his fit of giggles enough to really look at him, he was no longer there: he'd fled, quietly at first, then broke into noisy, messy sobs once he was out in the hallway. The memory was still really painful, and he remembered how Finn had found him first, curled into a ball, sobbing, crying so hard he could barely see. Finn hadn't said much that he could recall, but he'd gathered him in his arms, holding him until he felt like he could breathe again.

They'd talked before, of course. In October, after that awful night where they went for a walk that ended in disaster after Callbacks. At first, back in Lima, he'd been afraid Finn would shun him, or maybe even beat the crap out of him. But Finn had proved to be a bigger man than that, even as his own heart was shattered: he understood, and listened to him when Kurt wouldn't, and had stuck to his story, firmly reassuring him that he and Kurt would find their way back to each other. Had he really been talking about them, or about his own turbulent relationship with Rachel?

Finn had tried to get him to take the lead in Grease; after all, Artie had convinced him to use this as an outlet for his own pain, so why wouldn't it help Blaine too? They'd gone to the Lima Bean after the show closed, fresh wounds for both of them reopened, as both Kurt and Rachel had surprised them, showing up to see the show (or so they said) but failing to reconnect, in both cases.

He thanked Finn, as he erased a word, working on his phrasing again, and counted his blessings, remembering back to what had happened after Finn found him, still clutching the damned ring box.

"_Listen, dude, Kurt's panicked right now. You didn't see him when he sent me and half the Glee club to try to find you." Finn sighed heavily, holding the still sob-wracked body of the shorter boy. "You need to hear him out, I swear it's not as bad as you think."_

"_How" and here he sobbed, barely breathing, let alone able to string sentences together, "could –[sob]- he do that?" He blew his nose noisily, taking the paper towel Finn shoved at him. "He – he thinks I'm an –[ sob ]– idiot!" _

_Finn checked his texts, between handing Blaine paper towels and reassuring him. He looked down at Blaine and smiled his crooked gentle smile, earning a mystified gawk in return._

"_You **are** an idiot, but you're **my** idiot," Kurt soft softly, as he turned Blaine around to face him, desperately glad that Finn had found him. "Blaine, I'm so so sorry."_

Kurt _had_ been sincere, eventually convincing him that if he'd thought for a second that Blaine wasn't kidding, he would never have reacted that way. Things were better; they'd at least worked out that Kurt wasn't dating Adam anymore, and that they wanted to be boyfriends again. By the time Kurt left for New York, as the term was still in session, Blaine felt better than he would have expected. He missed him, sure, that was never not true. But they made time for each other, and Kurt pelted his phone with texts every day, whether it was obsessing about wardrobe choices (for either of them), funny pictures of sights in New York, or cheesy flirting. He'd asked him, in a Skype session, if he was forcing this for his sake. Kurt had insisted he wasn't; that he'd learned better, that they were both happier when they could pretend they were closer physically, and that his little texts throughout the day were just reflections of his thoughts, shared with him as if he were there beside him.

His phone buzzed from its place on top of his piano, and he reached for it reflexively as it announced a call. He wondered who it could be, as it was late, and seeing that is was Burt calling, he picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Kiddo, you haven't heard..."

"Heard what?" Blaine asked, staring at his phone, trying to squash down the feeling of panic threatening to take over. He listened in horror as Burt broke down, crying.

"Blaine. Finn – Finn's dead."

"What! No – _how_ -"

Burt continued, his voice hoarse, sounding like getting the words out was painful. "Car accident, not far from the college." There had been a long pause, and Blaine had waited, shocked, as he felt tears spring from his eyes. "Kurt, he's on his way home. Will you go with me to pick him up?"

The next few days had been a blur, a horrible nightmare of pain for all of them. The body had undeniably been Finn's, the accident that took his life, senseless. The last anyone knew, he and Puck had been at a raucous off campus party. Finn had had a little to drink, but had readily relinquished his keys to the guy across the hall from him in his dorm, Nate. The problem was, Nate had had lots more to drink than Finn had, and Finn had had just enough for his judgment to be off, so he'd accepted Nate's offer to drive them back. Nate had taken the turn way too fast, and in the rainy conditions had slammed into the tree, killing Finn instantly, as far as the paramedics could tell, and leaving the driver in a coma.

Kurt, of course, had been a wreck, mourning him as a friend and brother, angry at the world and the driver, and crying, Santana said, all the way to the airport. Once there, she told Blaine later, he'd looked like he was dazed, trying to help Rachel, who couldn't stop crying and couldn't keep food down, worrying about Carole, and fretting as the parts of the flight cut them off from Lima. Santana had grieved, too, more as a friend than ex-girlfriend, since that part had never been very real for either of them. She'd hated the feeling of helplessness, unable to comfort Rachel, and unable to reach a stony-faced Kurt who had looked closed down for the journey.

Standing with the Berry dads at the airport, Blaine watched their approach, as Kurt and Santana half-carried Rachel, and the tiny singer looked tinier than ever, crying so hard as she caught sight of them all that she looked like a different girl. Carole waited at home with her sister, at Burt's insistence: she'd been stunned, then inconsolable, and he was worried about her, as well as heartbroken for her and for himself, remembering the bond he'd built with Finn.

In the end, the Berrys had taken Burt up on his offer to come to their place to talk, to cry together, and plan. There was more food than anyone knew what to do with, but more than that, Burt had been ordered by Carole to bring Rachel home if he could.

Once Kurt was safely in the car with Blaine and his dad, his rigidity faded, and he melted into his boyfriend's arms as his father drove. Words were unimportant, though Blaine tried to console Kurt with them.

"I know, baby, I know. It's okay to cry now, you're here, you're almost home." Seeing how wrecked Kurt was refreshed Blaine's grief.

"Why did this happen? I mean, we became brothers, and he was the sweetest guy, and he was just starting to figure his life out. I know it's stupid, but I can't get over how fucking unfair this is."

Blaine could only agree, and wish he knew what to say. He had to admit that he had no idea. Meanwhile, Burt was thankful the ride from the airport to home wasn't a long one; concentrating on the road gave him a focus and a mission, and having Blaine there meant he didn't have to talk much.

They all trooped into the church, all of New Directions, old and new. Even Coach Sue was there, and she didn't even try to look composed, crying as freely as most of them. Beiste looked sick, and seemed numb, eyes red and face swollen. Burt supported Carole, who was quiet and looked fragile somehow. Kurt noticed a lot of women he didn't know, who clearly were from the hospital: Carole's co-workers, who they'd seen a lot of in the last few days, dropping off casseroles, sitting with her in turns, and just being there. They'd passed by in a blur for him, but he'd been glad for her for the extra support. These few days had been a surreal blur for him. When the priest had suggested that someone in the family might want to craft a collage to have at the church and afterwards, he'd latched on to the idea, and Carole had contributed to it intermittently, but mostly held back. The final result was on a big tri-fold red cardboard, with McKinley colors, lots of pictures, memorabilia like copies of their Nationals set list (pizza stained) and sports awards, and finally small pieces of paper with messages from each of their friends, written on Post-its, and stuck on, looking as if they were only waiting to be picked up by the recipient.

"It's perfect," Blaine sighed, admiring the final product, sure that Finn would have been touched by how hard Kurt in particular had worked on it. Looking at Carole's contributions, pictures of Finn as a baby and kid who kept growing taller with each picture, prompted fresh tears from both of them.

The song Blaine had been working on when he got the call had been hastily finished, the words changed a bit, and Carole, Kurt, and Burt had all agreed that dedicating it to Finn and using it as a way to honor him was a fitting tribute. Rachel had had no real reaction, accepting it but saying little else, not functional yet.

Kurt and Blaine were standing outside the church, steeling themselves to go in. "Kurt, I don't know, I don't think I can do this," Blaine blurted out in a whisper, standing beside him so close that the sides of their bodies were touching.

"You can, baby, do it for Finn." Blaine looked at him, those beautiful eyes, like everyone else's, so full of pain. "We can do this, together, and for Carole as well. He was always the first one to tell you to sing it out, you know." Despite the sadness, they shared a glance, full of affection for the boy who was gone too soon. "It's time," Kurt whispered.

Blaine had been anything but sure. Kurt, Burt, and Carole had all reassured him that no matter what, they knew he'd dedicated this song to Finn, whether he would be able to sing it today or not.

He'd sat there, squeezed in alongside Kurt and his family, flanked by the Berry family on the other side. Leroy kept looking at Hiram worriedly; both of them looked grim, but Hiram looked pale, and kept squeezing their daughter's shoulders, as she burrowed into his chest. They all listened as the priest mixed familiar words of the liturgy with words of comfort, and they tried to sing along to those parts of the service that called for it.

It was finally time for Blaine's song, listed in the program. The priest looked at them questioningly; he knew that he'd have to be flexible. It was common, in funerals, to have to take over the reading for a mourner too bereft to do it, or to skip parts that had been planned, if needed. Brad, the New Directions' accompanist, was there, looking as tear-stained as the rest of them, but willing to take over, to play something if Blaine found he just couldn't do it.

Blaine nodded at Kurt, and they stood up, making eye contact with the priest. The priest took his cue, and addressed the people as they settled in at the grand piano at the front of the church.

"Music was such a huge part of Finn's life that he shared with so many of you, and I know he loved singing with you. This original song is dedicated to his memory, and Blaine would like you to know that if you'd like to, he invites you to sing along on the chorus."

Blaine started playing the notes of his song, strongly and confidently. He knew he couldn't talk, but singing was different, and playing the piano was grounding for him. He played the introduction twice, though, which didn't go unnoticed by Kurt, sitting beside him, ready to join him. He swallowed. He was ready.

_I've been alone_

_Surrounded by darkness_

_And I know how heartless_

_The world can be_

All eyes were on him. His voice conveyed loss, and sadness, but Carole and Burt had heard the song, along with Kurt, and felt it was perfect, if he could manage to sing it. He turned his gaze to look at Carole, then over to Rachel, and was grateful for Kurt beside him.

_And I've seen you crying_

_You feel like it's hopeless_

_I'll always to my best_

_To make you see_

Kurt's clear voice joined him now, harmonizing perfectly.

_That, baby you're not alone_

_'Cause you're here with me_

The church was quiet, as the two boys sang. Rachel hadn't heard the song yet, though she'd gotten the link all the New Directions people had gotten too. She hadn't been able to bring herself to listen to it, but even through her grief she could see it, that Blaine was singing to her, to Carole, to all of them, and the words and thoughts did remind her of Finn. He'd had hard times, but his kindness and goodness of heart hadn't faltered, and she knew that he'd want them to be doing exactly what they were doing right now: remembering him in song, and remembering that they had each other. She wept, wishing that they didn't need each other so desperately for the reason they did right now, but found when Blaine got to the chorus again, she was able to sing it along with all the rest of New Directions, their teachers and coaches, her dads, and even Sue Sylvester.

Then it was done; he was buried. Against all logic, against all reason, this was where his young body would rest forever. Rachel had found that she did indeed have more tears in her to weep, there at the fresh grave, surrounded by most of the people who'd been there at the funeral.

She stepped away from her dads, and touched Blaine's arm, where he was stationed with Kurt, next to Burt and Carole. "Blaine?"

"Rachel." His voice was breathy, and she winced, hearing there the pity that she kept on hearing and seeing.

"I wanted to thank you. That song, it really was lovely. And I think," she lost it a bit, stifling a sob before going on, "I think he'd really appreciate it. I know I do. Thank you." Then he felt himself engulfed in her arms, and reached to hug her back, tears coming back for him too, and he felt her shaking.

Carole stepped forward, fresh tears coming as she watched her. "Rachel."

Rachel looked up, and shakily disengaged herself from Blaine.

Carole spoke again. "I think of you as my daughter, you know. Even though you didn't get to get married yet," and she accepted the tissues Burt passed to her before going on. "I miss him so damned much, and I can't believe he's gone. But that never changed, that I always expected you to become my daughter in law. I know you loved him very much."

Rachel found she couldn't speak as fresh sobs shook her body, but she accepted Carole's embrace, joined by Burt. "Me too, kiddo. We love you, and I know for a fact he never stopped loving you."

Hiram and Leroy stepped over to join them, as the two sets of parents mourned what no one would put into words, that the young lovers had been thwarted in their attempt at marrying, and they knew, since Rachel had told them over and over in the last few days, that she'd thought at one point maybe she was pregnant with Finn's child, and wished now that it had been more than a pregnancy scare. They cried again, along with her, mourning her loss, mourning for their broken little girl, and the boy they would have eventually welcomed as their son.

A month later, Mr. Schue walked into Glee practice, and scrawled "Nationals" on the white board. He looked at these kids, and knew none of them were healed yet; the old New Directions members who knew Finn best were the most outspoken in their grief, but the newer members remembered him fondly as their anchor, who'd shepherded them to Sectionals as best he could, helped direct Grease, and had been there for them when they needed it. The big, goofy grad with the crooked smile, who was always ready to motivate or console, who shielded the rest of them from his grief over his own troubles, who'd just figured things out recently, was like a ghost in the choir room, never quite gone, even on the good days.

"Do you think we should even do that, Mr. Schue? I mean, we're still in mourning," Tina spoke for the group.

"What do you all think?" the teacher asked them, studying their faces.

There was an awkward silence, and Artie wheeled himself forward a little, to be more visible in addressing the group. "I think we need to do it. For him," and the boy's face flushed, as he tried and failed to fight back tears. "He would tell us that's the right thing to do, and I think we should dedicate our performance to him."

Mr. Schue hung back as the subdued group discussed it, and after a while they all agreed with Artie, though some of them expressed reservations about how they'd manage to do it, feeling as they did. Then he felt it was his time to talk. "I got a call today. From Rachel." He heard the gasps from a few of them; Rachel had actually dropped out of the last week of classes at NYADA, unable to function yet once the funeral was over. Despite their efforts, Rachel didn't talk much to anyone, though she did spend time at the Hudmel house fairly regularly. "She told me to use Finn's song for Nationals, that it was powerful, and if we want to dedicate our performance to him, it's logical to use it."

This prompted fresh tears from a lot of the teens sitting in the choir room. Blaine whipped out his phone and speed-texted Kurt, wanting his take on this. Kurt assured him that she'd discussed this with Carole and the rest of the family the night before, and they all agreed it was a good idea.

How, he wondered, would they craft the rest of the set list, and choreograph it all? A problem for another day, the teacher decided. "Blaine, are you ready to play it?"

Blaine nodded that he was, as Brad stepped aside, and patted his shoulder, trying to encourage the boy. He sat down and played the opening notes, looking at Mr. Schue's notes on the arrangement. "This is for you, Finn," he murmured, and closed his eyes before starting to sing.

**A/N: The world has lost a special person, and we will always miss Cory. My heart goes out to Lea, his family, and the tight family that is Glee. This piece is a tribute to Finn too, who will live on in our hearts. I know I'll never hear Don't Stop Believing without feeling a tug at my heart. The song of course is Darren Criss' Not Alone.**


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